


The Things We Take, And The Things We Leave Behind

by keyboardclicks



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alien Technology, Canon Compliant, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Second Chances, established scene from different point of view, references to angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 09:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21389980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyboardclicks/pseuds/keyboardclicks
Summary: Minerva watches the countdown with forcibly even breaths and takes a final inventory while she still has the chance.In thirty seconds, she will be gone.In thirty seconds, she will be on Earth.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	The Things We Take, And The Things We Leave Behind

**Author's Note:**

> Best paired with a good listening of "Interstellar Blues" from the Amnesty soundtrack.

This is it.

Presuming this works-and _it should work, _she’s checked her math too many times to remember_-_this is the definitive _it _of her story so far.

Minerva stares anxiously at the whirring piece of machinery before her. While not completely destroyed by the impact of the meteor the past few months had been spent, almost ceaselessly, repairing the damage that was done. If only she had only managed a little sooner, this wouldn’t have had to wait for such a critical moment in Duck Newton’s life. But wormhole travel was an excessively complicated procedure, and was not something she had mastered. Quite frankly she is lucky to have gotten the device up and running again at all.

All she can do while it prepares is wait and cheer on her companion from her position billions of lightyears away while Dr. Sarah Drake, a new hopeful friend, trusts the strange situation she finds herself in and readies the telescope.

Duck Newton is fighting admirably, keeping at bay the strange amalgamate monster which seeks to do him harm. He has been training, she sees that, but he was not unaffected by the loss of their connection. He stumbles more, breathes harder, blocks when he could instead strike. 

He is afraid.

But this is Duck Newton, her most stubborn and promising pupil. He will not fail.

A series of clicks and buzzes and beeps, along with a display on the monitor indicate a countdown. 

Sixty seconds.

Minerva steels herself with a slow and careful breath, watching Duck’s silhouette carefully, but forcefully, drive back the creature he is faced with. She mentally checks her small inventory, knowing there will be no other time to do so.

The clothes on her back. 

Her most decorated and battle-worn plates of armor. 

Her sword, held tightly in her left hand. 

A pouch of dirt, tied closed and tucked carefully in her pocket.

That is all. There is nothing else she deserves to take. This world has been dead for so long, it need not be distrubed by her presence anymore.

Thirty seconds.

Duck Newton is struggling in his lonely fight, but he will not be alone much longer.

Her breathing picks up, the beating of her two hearts strong and frantic in her chest. The grip on her sword tightens. Nerves crackle with energy down her arms to her fingertips.

Fifteen seconds.

She wonders what will happen to her planet. If anyone else out in the vastness of the universe will ever find it and see the ruin that she caused. She wonders if anyone will ever know how great her people were, or if the mass grave will remain still and lonely forever. She wonders which one she would prefer and if it matters.

Three seconds.

Two seconds.

One second.

A flash of green light signals the opening of her one chance at escape.

Minerva looks around and sees the portal, thirty yards in the distance. The machine starts a new countdown.

Twenty seconds until the door closes.

As if her legs have not caught up with her mind, her first step forward is stumbling and hesitant. But the fading beeps of the countdown behind her spur her towards action and her sandals crunch the dirt beneath her feet.

She sees the dark green of trees, the deepening blue of an evening sky. Her vision tunnels, narrowing in on its goal as she rushes forward in bounding steps, sword held aloft in both hands. At her back is a dead world, a disaster she caused and cannot undo. But forward is life. Forward is the chance to, if not redeem herself, then to save others from a similar fate.

Her ears pop as she leaps through the makeshift gateway, sliding to a stop on unfamiliar, yet also familiar, ground. The air is colder, she notes, crisper than the dry desert her planet had become. Wind stirs in the pine trees surrounding the massive clearing in which she finds herself. Duck Newton stands beside her, just to her left, awed and startled with his jaw hanging open.

The realization and reality hits her all at once. She is here, with him, with all those she has trained and lost over her time in connection with this world, and the euphoria of that is almost enough to make her weep. Almost enough to make her forget the foe they must face down.

But not quite.

She turns to look over her shoulder, and her smile stretches so wide that her cheeks ache. (She can’t even remember how long it’s been since she smiled like this.)

“Thanks For The Lift, Duck Newton!”


End file.
